All Wrapped Up
by Poisoned Scarlet
Summary: "Full Metal, it seems we've got one pissed off mechanic on our hands." And to think, it all stemmed back to the very man who was giving him advice on how to win back his childhood friend. EdxWin.
1. Chapter 1

_**All Wrapped Up  
**__**by. **Poisoned Scarlet_

**Summary:** "I'm not sure, Full Metal, but it seems we've got one pissed off mechanic on our hands" And to think, it all stemmed back to the very man who was giving him advice on how to win back his childhood friend.

**Rating: **T, _for strong language._

**Pairing: **Ed/Winry. Roy/Riza.

**Authors Note: **_I always figured Ed would say some pretty tactless things to Winry and she _wouldn't _forgive him – not immediately,anyways. I mean, it's _Ed_. Of course he'd do or say something to earn him the girls wrath!_

**Disclaimer: **_If I owned Full Metal Alchemist, Ed would be really tall and STILL have a height complex._

**_Side Note_**_: _I don't know if they use Euros in the Full Metal Alchemists world. I have heard of cenzs but I'm not sure if that means coins or bills, but in this fanfiction it will mean bills. It will be equivalent to US dollars, since that's what I'm most familiar with. Converting isn't my forte, anyways.

* * *

"That's it!" Ed roared, slamming the front door open and ignoring the way the knob dented the wall as he stomped inside. He used the doors momentum to kick it close and ground his teeth as thoughts of punching his superiors face into oblivion rushed through his head.

"Brother, what's wrong?" Alphonse asked curiously, sneakily hiding the two needles he was using to knit some mittens. He had taken to sewing after Winry had lost a button on one of her shirts. He found the repetitive exercise of weaving quite calming, especially if you had a short-fused brother with a mouth on him.

"That damn bastard, Roy!" Ed growled, clenching his fists into balls. "He won't stop abusing his position as Colonel!"

"Uh," Al said uncertainly. "But, what did he do this time? From what I can see, he hasn't done anything—"

"Not _done_ anything?!" Ed shouted in incredulity. "Hell yeah he hasn't _done _anything! He keeps sending off to do menial work and he even _forced me to do five stacks of his goddamn paperwork!!_" His automail hand gripped his tired flesh one, grimacing when the joints in his wrist ached from writing. "Six fucking hours, Al! _Six. _All morning until now!"

Alphonse wisely decided not to comment as his brother raved and raged, pacing back and forth across the living room and punching his fist into his palm repeatedly; envisioning the arrogant face of Colonel Mustang as he did. Al glanced down at the knitting needles he had hidden in his armored body and absently thought that if his brother was this furious, he probably wouldn't notice if he continued his project....

Suddenly, clanks and clinks from the kitchen brought Alphonse back from his musing. "Oh, brother! Winry's here!"

Edward faltered and paused, turning slowly to his brother. "... What?"

"Winry's here," Al chirped. Perhaps the sunny corn-blonde would be able to calm his brother down. "She dropped by a couple of hours ago before visiting Gracia and Elyisa," he pointed to the kitchen, where more sounds could be heard. "Actually, she barely got in before you did. She's in the kitchen cooking us dinner."

Edward stared at Alphonse for a moment, before going back to pacing and muttering. But not before shouting a weary: "Winry, I'm back!"

The clanking stopped for a moment. "I figured that when I heard you spouting out some nonsense about Colonel Mustang!"

"Nonsense?!" Ed scowled. "That bastard deserves every dirty word I can think of! Hell, that son of a bitch deserves—"

"Ed!" Winry barked, peeking her head out of the kitchen and sending him a look. "Shut up! I didn't come here to hear your whining!"

"Well, who the heck asked you any ways!" Ed retorted petulantly, directing his ire for his superior to the next best thing at the moment: Winry. "My automail isn't broken and every thing's just dandy here in Central! Why the _hell_ are you even here?!"

"Brother," Alphonse said warningly but Ed paid no heed.

Winry looked miffed, slightly hurt even, by Ed's harsh words but she didn't let that keep her down. Ed was angry and she was no stranger to an angry Edward Elric. When he was angry, he said many things. When he was angry, he didn't thoroughly think out his words – the meaning behind them. Nevertheless, the blond mechanic couldn't help the light prickles of hurt edging into her heart.

"Because you never visit us in Resembool!" Winry shouted right back, watching Ed go rigid. "I might be just your _mechanic_ to you, Edward Elric, but to me you're still the boy I knew from my childhood and nothing is going to change that!!" She spun on her heel and stomped back into the kitchen, where Ed winced as he heard a glass crack in the sink.

"Ugh... Winry!" Ed called, walking into the kitchen only to scramble back out just in time to miss the flying glass which flew out the open window and crashed below. "I didn't mean it, alright?" Ed tried to amend, wide eyes staring out the window where he last saw the glass fly. "You don't need to go biting my head off!"

"_I'm _biting your head off? Ha! If anyone is biting someone's head off, its you!"

"Winry, you know I didn't mean it like that," Edward persisted. He heard the girl snort and his temper flared at the mocking laugh that came next.

"I don't need you to lie to me to know that you really don't want me here, Ed! It's crystal clear to me!"

"You know that's not true!" Ed threw back accusingly, eyes widening when he heard a spoon slam down on wood.

"Oh, _please, _Ed. Can you make it any more obvious? Its alright, I understand. You're busy, I didn't call, case closed. Just take your problems elsewhere because I don't want to hear your ridiculous whining right now!"

"But I'm _not busy_!" Ed stressed. "That bastard Colonel just keeps giving me useless work to avoid getting chewed out by his damn Lieutenant!"

"You mean Riza?"

"Yes!"

"Don't talk about her that way then! Riza's a good friend of mine!"

"Ugh, Winry! You're not seeing the point here –"

"I _do _see the point. Roy is annoying you. I _get _it!" Winry stepped into his line of vision, a scowl marring her usually gentle features. Edward snorted inwardly, watching her advance to him like a lion to his prey. Winry was _never _gentle. Definitely not when she owned the surname _Rockbell. _That basically spelled out disaster.

"Now how about you stop being a child," she snarled, staring dangerously into his equally dangerous eyes, "and handle this situation like a man! You're sixteen, Ed! Act your age and stop throwing tantrums! You're not a little kid anymore!"

Ed scoffed. "This coming from the girl who uses wrenches to beat sense into people?" He ducked just in time to avoid a painful dent in his skull. "See?!"

"Shuddup, Ed!"

"Like hell I will!" Ed threw back, dodging another vicious swing from the girl. "Ugh, this is why I hate it when you come over! All you ever do is whack me in the head with that damn thing!"

"What's that suppose to mean?!" Winry snapped.

"Exactly what it's suppose to mean, idiot!" Ed snarled, eyes flashing dangerously. "Sometimes I think all you're ever good for is fixing up my automail!"

The silence was suffocating.

His gold eyes widened as the meaning of his words sunk in. He could see her features, usually scrunched up with mild annoyance or happiness, became strained with hurt. His mouth went dry when he saw an unusual glimmer in her azure eyes, indicating the beginnings of tears.

"No, Winry, wait, I didn't—"

"It's okay," she whispered, lowering her arm limply by her side. She dropped her wrench, letting it clatter loudly on the linoleum floor. "I get it. I really am just a mechanic to you and I shouldn't expect better. Its okay, Ed, I get it. Really, I-I do."

"Win, no, I didn't mean—"

But she was already striding to the door, avoiding Alphonse's worried eyes, and running out of the apartment. Edward managed to reach the front door before deciding against it and running a hand down his tired face. His automail hand gripped the wrench she had left behind tightly.

Alphonse silently observed his brother, who's eyes had gone heavy with guilt and his once intolerable fury had washed out and replaced with old feelings of shame and self-disgust.

"That was uncalled for, brother," Alphonse said quietly, standing up as his brother continued to gaze silently at the front door. The apartment located near HQ was quite large, homey, and just enough for the two Elric's as they spent their temporary break from the Philosopher's Stone doing nothing more than sleeping or eating.

Or more like forced break, if Ed had any say.

They had been meeting dead ends for the past five weeks and Al had hopefully suggested they take a break to relax their possibly-fried brains. Ed had agreed but with this new development the older Elric deduced that this break was nothing but trouble.

"You went too far this time. You didn't have to say that to her!"

"I know," Ed mumbled, glancing at Al and letting his gaze drop to the twin needles held in his large hands. "Are those knitting needles?"

"Uh, yes?"

"I'm not even going to ask," Edward sighed, trudging down to the hall and entering his temporary bedroom. The room itself lacked any sign of habitation, save for the worn and torn suitcase thrown carelessly by his bedpost, which was popped open and spilling with boxers, t-shirts and stray socks.

He plopped down on his bed and absently touched his automail arm, only to flinch away when his fingers grazed upon the Rockbell logo embellished upon the gleaming metal. It sent waves of guilt and shame through his system, drowning out any other problem aside from the one he ruthlessly started. He glanced at the clock, watching the second hand slug along the roman numerals.

He glanced at his hand, the very limb that had saved him time and time again during his battles, and clenched it tightly.

"Damn it," he breathed, standing up and grabbing his red coat from its place across the bed. When he stepped back outside, Alphonse was standing right by the front door, holding it open and managing to look stern and disappointed even though his face was simply an armor helmet.

"Good," Al nodded. "I don't have to go chase you out of your room then. Go after Winry, brother! You really hurt her when you said that!"

Ed looked away. "Right..."

"Well? What are you waiting for?!" Alphonse shoved his brother out the door, looming over him dangerously. "You are not welcomed back until you have her safe and sound and you two have settled your differences!" The door slammed in the Elric's astonished face.

* * *

He had looked everywhere imaginable.

He had checked downtown and the southern wing of Central, which was abundant in all things mechanical. He didn't bother checking the east and west wings of the city, which only held rows and rows of houses and quiet neighborhoods. He had gone to Gracia's house only to find she had not seen the mechanic since she had visited her in the morning.

He had wondered the streets absently, attentive to every mop of blond hair that walked passed him down the busy streets of Central. He had gone to the park as a final desperate measure and did not find her there, either, even when he had asked several people if they had seen a girl with corn-colored hair wearing a black skirt.

His final destination left a bitter taste in his mouth: HQ.

He recalled her yelling that Riza Hawkeye was a good friend of hers. He had half a mind to go directly to the lieutenant herself but backpedaled quickly – if she really _had _gone with the lieutenant, barging in on them was the last thing he should do if he wanted to get on her good side. Now, Edward was no stranger to having a gun pointed at him but having a _professional sniper, _who could shoot you down within a mile rage, was a different story.

So he barged into the Colonel's office instead, ignoring the secretary's ruffled squeaks of indignation, and strode up to the head man himself.

He was sitting there in his desk looking high and mighty, neglecting his paperwork once more and instead opting to stare ahead blankly. He was most likely sleeping, as Ed had discovered that the Colonel had a disturbing way of falling asleep with his eyes open. Ed suspected this was how he was able to put off so much paperwork.

Ed slammed his hands on his desk.

Roy jumped, straightened, rose a brow when he caught sight of Edward, and waved off his secretaries rushed apologies without a second thought.

"What's the matter, Full Metal?" Roy asked, eying his subordinates messy come off.

"Has Winry been here?" He asked bluntly.

Roy hummed in thought and nodded. "Yes, she has, why do you ask? She asked for Hawkeye's presence about two hours ago and I have not seen them since... she looked a little on the pale side, should I assume it had something to do with you?"

Ed sat down in the sofa located in the middle of the room and breathed out a sigh of relief. At least he knew she was alright, being in Hawkeye's hands and all. That was a small weight thrown off his chest.

"She's just upset," was the only thing he said.

"Ah, in other words: you said something untactful once again and she ran away because those words happened to hurt her," Roy sighed in disappointment, shaking his head. "Honestly, Full Metal, you really have no way with women."

"It's not like you're any better!" Ed bristled, glowering at him. "How many times have you seen down the barrel of Hawkeye's gun, Colonel?"

Roy wisely stayed quiet but did recall all those wonderful times he had taken his teasing too far and had managed to strike a nerve within the usually unruffled lieutenant. Instead, he said, "Well, the only thing you can do now is let her calm down."

"It's been two hours," Ed replied curtly. "That's enough time, right?"

"Ah, ah, ah," Roy warned. "That is one assumption you should never make regarding women, Full Metal. Here, let me share with you a piece of advice: when they get mad, they get mad, and no amount of time will cease their wrath. The one thing I suggest doing is biding your time and making it up to her." He leaned back on his chair, sending him a cocky grin when Ed only stared. "It has not failed me before and I doubt it'd fail you... though, you are infamous for screwing up the simplest task," Roy added as an afterthought, chuckling when Ed's frown deepened.

"So, what you're saying is that even if she had all the time in world she wouldn't cool off... until I can make it up to her somehow?"

"Basically, yes."

"That's the stupidest thing I've ever heard!" he spat back, even though he did look contemplative.

"Is it?" Roy leered. "Though, it does depend on what you told her." He waited patiently, an amused half-smile on his face.

Edward held his gaze for a moment before averting his eyes to the couch across from him. He flickered his rich topaz eyes to his right arm, tracing the lines which made up the automail. Her specially designed automail, with a carefully measured mixture of alloys that made it strong enough to withstand the toughest blows yet light enough that it did not weigh him down. The custom automail only _he _owned; no other patients had the luxury of having _this _particular design, because she had made it for _him_. His guilt increased two-fold.

She worked so hard in order to help him accomplish his goal and what does he go saying? The exact wrong thing to say to the second most important person in his life.

"Look, you could keep it to yourself and try handling it on your own, to which you will surely fail, or you could confide in me and I could try and help you out," Roy deadpanned, pivoting his chair from side to side as he patiently waited for the stubborn teenagers answer. "It's your choice."

Ed closed his eyes and clenched his fists. He couldn't believe what he was about to do but Roy had a point: if he tried handling the situation alone, like so many times before, he would only be met with failure. How many times had he infuriated her to the point of tears and failed to regain her favor? And Ed didn't like making the same mistake twice... even though with Winry he always seemed to screw up somehow.

"I told her that all she was ever good for was fixing my automail," he revealed almost inaudibly. However, Roy's trained ears caught the mumble and Edward clenched his jaw when he heard the drawn-out sigh from his superior.

"This one's a tough one," Roy admitted, tapping his forefingers together. "But not irreparable."

"You think so?" Ed asked as casually as possible, albeit the pitch in his voice gave him away.

"Yes." Mustang stood up and glanced at the clock, which signaled it was only going to be five in the evening. His gaze dropped to the piles of paperwork lined up neatly on his desk and flickered back to the glum alchemist that sat a few feet away.

The paperwork could wait, if his plan actually worked.

"Follow me," he instructed, leading the way.

"Oi! Where are we going?" Ed quickly caught up with Mustang, eying him suspiciously. "I thought you said you were gonna' to help me with Winry."

"I am," Roy said shortly.

"Then what are we gonna' do?"

"Not 'we', 'you'," Roy corrected, side-glancing him. "What you said was a very callous and heartless thing to say to someone who has stood by your side for all these years. She would no doubt be furious with you so obviously talking to her is out of her question." Mustang threw open the twin doors that would lead outside the HQ building. "So we must formulate a plan that will counteract your tactless words... or at least giver her a temporary case of amnesia..."

"I don't like the sound of that," Ed said warily.

"Simple code-talk," Mustang dismissed, walking down the concrete steps.

"Uh... so what _are _we going to do?" Ed asked awkwardly, as they both walked briskly towards Mustang's automobile, which lay parked just outside the HQ building, beyond that gate which permitted access to the humongous structure.

"I'm not sure, Full Metal, but it seems we've got one pissed off mechanic on our hands," Roy coughed, ignoring the elder Elric's spouts of irritation at his lack-of-plan. "What is one thing in the world that a girl like Winry would love beyond anything else?"

"The perfect automail blue print," Ed answered automatically. At Roy's blank stare, he added: "Or anything metal in general."

"Exactly," he smirked.

His superiors plans slowly began to make sense in Edward's abuzz brain and he let a smirk of his own graze his features momentarily. If what Roy was insinuating was that they indulge Winry with every metal tool they could get their hands on then Ed was following on quite clearly. But the devious sparkle in the Colonel's obsidian eyes told Ed otherwise and he decided not to ask – he didn't think he could stomach any more surprises.

"Mustang?"

"Yes?"

"Why are you even helping me?"

"Because if my plan actually works," Roy's smirk widened, as he recalled the amount of paperwork he had let pile up over the weeks. "You will be in my debt." With that said, he floored the gas and Ed was driven back into his seat from the sheer force.

"You conniving bastard!" Ed strangled out, holding onto the glove compartment tightly as the car swerved around a corner with insane speed.

"Oh, you won't be saying that once you've got Ms. Rockbell wrapped around your finger."

* * *

"He just doesn't get it!!" Winry shrieked, scribbling furiously on a notepad as Riza calmly took a sip of her tea. "I know he doesn't mean it but how could he just say something like that? He does this all the time and everytime he expects me to forgive him right afterward! He never even _apologizes_ for what he says! He just expects me to drop it! Ugh, and when he _does _apologize, it's this crap apology that deserves nothing but a roll of the eyes... ugh! Stupid alchemy dork!" She stabbed the pencil into the notepad deeply, Riza noted. She had a good arm.

"Do you let him?" Riza asked, once Winry's furious rant slowly grew less and less intense. Winry's eyes ran over the complex drawings and she nearly bashed her head against the table when she noticed she had been drawing a replica of Ed's automail leg, adding extra bolts, removing some, and overall perfecting the nearly perfect model.

"Pardon?" She scribbled out the leg until it was nothing but a black stain on the paper.

"Do you let him get away with it, I mean?"

Winry blinked. "O-Of course not! I don't let him get away with it! In fact, I do the exact opposite!"

"But from what you've told me I can deduce that you _do_ let him get away with it," Riza took another sip of her tea. "You let your anger blind you in your arguments, however petty they may be, which escalates them into bigger problems. And when he does say something untactful, you don't resist his advances and _you _end up apologizing to him rather than having him do it himself. You mustn't let your affection for him blind you, Winry, or you will never be able to resolve your arguments."

"A-Affections?" Winry stammered, pink rising on her cheeks.

"You do have feelings for him, right?"

Winry silently played with her pencil, twirling it around in her fingers softly before looking up to the woman. Riza could read the guilt of being caught in her eyes as Winry nodded her head very slightly.

_At least she admits it, _thought the lieutenant, placing her cup down on the table. "It is of no surprise that Edward has trouble articulating his thoughts when it comes to emotionally charged situations."

"But it wasn't even emotionally charged!" Winry countered. "He was just angry that Colonel Mustang had him finish his paperwork!"

At this, Winry watched as the lieutenant go rigid in her chair before relaxing. The mechanic had seen a spark of fury flare though her eyes before the same kind emotion filled the red-chocolate orbs. Winry could only wonder what type of punishment the devious Colonel would be submitted to eventually.

"I see. But the situation _was_ emotionally charged – he let his anger control him. In an effort to expunge this fury, he directed to towards you."

"So I got most of his anger for the Colonel, huh?" Winry echoed depressingly. Then annoyance spiked her words: "That's not fair at all!"

"You shouldn't be so surprised, it seems that he does this all the time?" Riza smiled when Winry snorted.

"All the time doesn't even cut it! Honestly, he hears the word 'short' or 'bean' or even 'small' and he throws a huge fit about it! You might not even be _talking _to him but he'll still react to it! And in arguments he gets all flustered and starts pacing! Geez..." Winry's lips curled upward into a soft smile."He'll never learn."

Riza watched the fond smile critically. "You find it endearing." The statement was not meant to be accusing rather it had been said as a fact.

A fact that shocked Winry out of her thoughts.

"What?!" Winry gaped. "No! I don't find it endearing at all! You're wrong, Riza!"

"Are you sure?" Riza continued mercilessly, challenging Winry's adamant gaze with her own.

Winry dropped her eyes and thinned her lips. She fiddled with the hem of her skirt for a few moments before gripping her fabric between her fingers and closing her eyes. She felt her cheeks burn lightly and she knew she had been caught.

Riza smiled in satisfaction. "I was correct."

"But I can't help it!" Winry cried, lifting her head to look at the lieutenant. Black Hayate had curled up beside her feet and she rubbed the top of his head softly as she spoke. "It's just—it's so—ugh! It's so.... _cute._" She winced as she said this. She had never told this guilty little secret to anyone. "I'm not sure if it's just the fact that I like him a lot that has me like this or just his tantrums in general," she sighed, feeling embarrassed. "Every little thing he does has me on edge. I'm hyper aware of him whenever we're in the same room and even the smallest movement can set me off. It's even worse when he gets angry, because he looks like such a kid," she smiled as she said this, remembering how his gold eyes kindled with emotion and his mouth fell into that well-practiced scowl. "He hasn't changed a bit since we were young... still stubborn, aggressive, Ed..."

Riza smiled kindly and stood up, glancing at the clock which read six in the evening. "Would you like to go for a walk?" Riza gestured to Black Hayate, who wagged his tail in anticipation. "Black Hayate must be feeling suffocated from being in the house all day long."

"Sure," Winry sighed sharply, lifting herself up with difficulty. "Sure."

* * *

"Do you have any other objective aside from running me _broke_?!" Ed yelled furiously, holding three bags-worth of mechanical merchandise in his hands. He glared daggers into Mustang's back as the man continued window shopping distractedly. More often than not, Edward noticed his superiors gaze linger on pocket knives or polished guns.

He suspected Mustang was in a tangle with his own best friend. A certain best friend who was currently accompanying his own best friend.

_Damn it, _Ed thought, prodding his empty back pocket. _Out of cash. _"Hey, Mustang! I'm gonna' go make a transaction. I'll be right back."

Roy nodded absently, waving him away. Ed contemplated slamming his fist into his cranium. He decided it wasn't worth it in the end and hobbled off towards the bank that loomed over him. He did not have to wait in line as he usually did since it was late and the majority of Central was at home, resting after a hard days work. He quickly flashed his State Alchemists watch to the lady and asked for as much as he was legally able to carry.

The woman looked shocked but nonetheless made the transaction. Soon his pockets were heavy with bills and he dragged off in the direction he last saw his superior head into: the heavy artillery weapon shop.

_Geez, what's up with him? _Ed grumbled, readjusting the bags in his hands. _And what the hell am I suppose to do with all this crap?! _His flesh fingers ached from the plastic handles. He was about to head into the store when a dull glimmer caught his eyes.

Edward turned and stared at the beaten old wrench that was carelessly thrown against the display window. He walked over to it and peered through the glass to observe the worn piece of metal. It was one of those old wrenches from back in the day, Ed could tell, since Winry had once owned one exactly like the one behind the window; only it had been bigger and thicker.

"_They don't make them like this anymore!" _She had grinned, tapping the worn-out wrench proudly. _"This is one of the best wrenches I've ever bought! All the other ones break under pressure or chip. But not this one! Sure it looks old, but it still works as if it were brand new!"_

"How may I help you, sir?" a kind voice asked from beside him. "I noticed you've been staring at that wrench for some five minutes now."

"Yeah, in fact I do. Is that wrench on sale, by any chance?" Ed asked, tearing his gaze from it and watching the old sales man smile toothily.

"It's actually just one of the maintenance tools," he admitted, giving him a strange look. "Why would you be interested in buying an old thing like that?"

"Well, a close friend of mine used to own one just like it," Ed said softly, returning his gaze to the wrench. "She had high reviews on it and I was wondering if you knew where to buy one."

"Ah, they're not in production anymore," he replied, smiling apologetically. "Charles Thompson's old work. All the new tools are better equipped to handle heat and pressure nowadays. Built better too."

"Really?" Ed mused. "My friend states otherwise and she's around pressure and heat more hours than is considered healthy," Ed half-smiled, lowering his bags to the floor and tapping a finger at the wrench. "How much would you be willing to sell that to me for?"

The old man blinked. "Well, I suppose a fair twenty would be appropriate."

"Deal!" Ed flashed a grin, digging into his pocket and pulling out a twenty. "Here!" He waited as the old man came back out with the wrench. He still had that funny look on his face but he handed it over nonetheless. Ed felt the heavy weight of the wrench, the texture coarse and durable. He was no mechanic but he had a pretty good idea that this wrench would continue to do it's job for years to come.

"Thanks!"

"No problem!" The old man smiled. "I hope your friend likes it!"

"Oh, I'm sure she will!" Ed picked up his bags after he placed the wrench in his coats inner pocket, where he was sure it would not fall nor get anymore damaged. He waved goodbye to the old man and spied Roy coming out of the artillery store, tucking a brown bag inconspicuously into his coat pocket.

"What you got there, Colonel?" Ed asked once he was in hearing-distance.

"There you are!" Roy scowled, ignoring his question. "Where the heck did you run off to, you brat?"

"I told you, I had to go make a money transaction," he replied tartly. "If you had been paying attention and not off in I'm-better-than-you land, then you would've noticed."

Mustang scoffed and continued ahead. "Do you think you can manage to wrap every one of those tools you bought?"

"What?! I've got enough to supply an army, Colonel, you've gotta' be joking!" Ed gawked, appalled. If he had know he would be _wrapping_ and probably bow-tying these things he wouldn't have let his superior buy so many!

"You can't just give it to her so crudely," Roy snapped. "Most women like things nicely wrapped and in gift bags."

Ed snorted. "Yeah, well, Winry isn't most women."

Mustang sighed in annoyance. "Why must your girlfriend be so difficult?" Roy raised a brow at Ed's squawk of surprise.

"W-What are you talking a-about?!" Ed sputtered, bright red burning his cheeks. "She's not my g-girlfriend! I mean, of course I like her but she's just my childhood friend and I-I've known her since I could crawl do of course I'd be concerned if-if she gets upset! I mean, of course I like her! If I didn't, I wouldn't be out here carrying all this crap! Wait, that came out wron—"

"Wait, she's not your girlfriend?" Roy frowned.

"NO!"

"How dismaying, I thought she was. You two sure fight like a couple," he grinned slyly when Edward only gaped.

Ed looked away, scoffing and trying hard to fight down the blush which burned his cheeks. "Look! There's nothing going on between us, alright? She's just... the last link I have to my old life." He let his gaze follow the dim horizon, which streaked the sky an array of reds and oranges. "That's why she's so important to me. She's probably the only person who actually understands my behavior aside from Al and she will probably the only one brave enough to use a wrench to knock sense into me when I need it the most," he smiled. He could picture her azure eyes lighting with self-righteous anger; how her pouty mouth would form a thin line. "... And I always make her cry." All previous humor fell from his face. "I always say that I'm going to protect her and promise never to make her cry again but... that's the one promise I can't seem to keep."

The wrench in his coat pocket felt heavier than before. "I hate it when she cries. I hate when its _me _who makes her cry. Jeez, I'm such a jackass..." He set his jaw, gaze downcast.

Roy listened to his monologue with a sense of graveness. The emotions for his mechanic ran deeper than what he had first suspected and this was not necessarily a bad thing. In fact, it improved his former plan; raising the success rate by a whooping thirty percent. It didn't matter that they were not a couple – this would only serve as even better black mail material.

His charcoal eyes lingered on the small wrench that bounced inside Ed's coat pocket. If he was right... then his first plan would work out after all.

Roy pointed to the shiny toolbox that gleamed from behind the window and was about to ask Ed to buy it when he felt the back of his neck prickle. He spun on his heel and stared at the two women who walked down the sidewalk side by side, one holding a leash and another clasping her hands behind her back.

"Full Metal, take cover!" Mustang alerted, shoving the confused boy away from view.

"Hey! What's the big deal?! I almost fell—whoa!" Edward felt the bags get lifted away and he gave the Colonel a shocked look as they raced down the strip of stores. "Hey! What's wrong? Why are we—"

"We've got company," Roy murmured under his breath, freezing the elder Elric in place. Ed swiveled around and openly gaped at the two women who were slowly advancing towards them, both too engrossed in their conversation to yet notice them.

"Shit!" Ed swore, eyes wide in horror. "Shit! Shit! What're we gonna' do now, Mustang!?"

Roy was biting his lip. He stared bravely ahead, sweat beading his forehead the closer they came. "We take it like men!"

Ed stared incredulously. "Like hell we will!" He grabbed Roy by the cuff of his neck and shoved him ahead, desperately hoping Hawkeye would not catch sight of them yet.

However, that was simply too much to ask for.

"Ed!?" He heard Winry's call barely reach his ears. He hastened his pace, pushing his superior along, who had no qualms on being treated like a Private at the moment. Anything was better than incurring Riza's wrath for not being in his office completing his paperwork.

"Come on! Move faster, you damn Colonel!" Edward whispered in a rush. He could literally _hear _their footsteps pick up in pace to follow them.

"Ed? Ed!" He could hear her voice and he only broke into a run, half-dragging Roy in the process.

"Ed...?" The last call made him stop altogether, despite Mustang's nervous questioning look. It sported hurt and confusion, a deadly combination for the elder Elric. He did not need to feel any worse than he already did.

"I thought we weren't taking it as men," Roy muttered, managing to look completely at ease somehow.

"Change of plans," Ed muttered right back, running a hand through his lose locks of hair. His brow furrowed and he touched his thick mane of hair, which flowed liberally behind him. He looked around for the his hair tie and frowned when he saw nothing.

"Ed, what are you doing out here with Colonel Mustang?" Winry asked once they were close enough. He tried to avoid as much eye contact as possible.

"Uh, just picking up some stuff..."

"Which reminds me," Roy pipped suddenly, "I believe these are yours." He transferred the bags, earning a look of disdain from the alchemist.

"Bastard," he breathed, before turning his attention back to the puzzled blond.

"What is all that?" She took a tentative step forward, eying the bags with open curiosity. "Al didn't say anything about picking up tools..." She could recognize a torque wrench when she saw one.

"Ah ha ha ha!" Ed laughed nervously. "These aren't for Al or me! Er – they're for –" his mind raced for excuses, "Fuery!" He blurted.

"Yes, Fuery contacted Full Metal here and asked him to pick up some things for him for his radio," Roy took over swiftly, avoiding Riza's inquisitive gaze. "We were just heading back when you caught our attention."

"Oh." Winry looked mildly disappointed, something which made Ed's stomach knot queasily.

"Sir, why are you not in your office?" Riza cut to the chase, staring imploringly into Roy's anxious eyes. "I recall telling you you were suppose to finish your paperwork and look over some minor reports before the day ended."

"Ah, yes, well," Roy cleared his throat and glanced at Edward, who only smiled smugly.

"Well?" he asked innocently, sniggering when Mustang glared darkly.

"Last time I ever help you, you ungrateful shrimp," Mustang murmured under his breath, smirking when Ed snapped his head up and sent him the most vicious glare he could manage while holding at least fifty pounds of metal.

"What was that, you soggy match!?"

"Who are you calling a soggy match, you pipsqueak?!" Mustang growled.

"Shuddup you useless Colonel!" Ed shot back heatedly.

They bickered for several seconds more, until Riza set her foot down and bid goodbye to Winry, who only nodded and watched as the woman gripped Mustang's upper arm and pull him away from Edward. She nodded curtly at the boy, who looked so smug Winry thought if he smiled any more it would split his face in half.

Mustang looked torn between indignation and self-concern.

"Later, Colonel!" Ed grinned, not bothering with waving since both his arms were occupied. He glanced at Winry and felt his humor die at her melancholic eyes. He offered a nervous smile.

Instead of the shake of the head he anticipated, she only looked away. His smile slowly fell and he glanced back down at the bags in his hand. The merchandise that belonged to her specifically.

What a mess.

"Hey, let's go home before Al gets anymore worried about us."

"I thought you were going to delivery those tools to Sergeant Fuery," Winry reminded, still looking away. Even the way her voice sounded was enough to wrench the young alchemist into confessing the tools were for her, no matter how embarrassed he would be right after. It was better to feel humiliated than guilt-ridden.

"He doesn't need them now," Ed lied anyway, averting his gaze when Winry met his. "I'll just... delivery them tomorrow morning. It's late and he's probably given up on waiting for me. Come on, let's head home." He started forward, aware that she followed a few steps behind him and the only thing she had said was a mere "okay" before falling completely silent.


	2. Chapter 2

_**All Wrapped Up  
**_**by. **_Poisoned Scarlet_

To say that Alphonse was disappointed was an understatement. When the knock had been struck, he had raced to the door and threw it open, hopefully watching his brother and Winry walk inside. His eyes had first caught the bags in Ed's hands and he immediately assumed Ed had taken Winry out shopping since he could make out the shapes that stuck out awkwardly from inside them.

"Wow, brother! That was really nice of you to buy Winry all those things," he beamed, oblivious to the sharp hurt in the mechanics eyes and Ed's downcast gaze.

"These... aren't for Winry, Al," Ed heaved a sigh, placing the bags down and wringing his flesh hand out, which was white from lack of blood circulation.

"Oh, well," Al looked hesitant, flicking his eyes to Winry frequently. "Then who are they for, brother?"

"Fuery," Ed said, feeling less than pleased at how easily the lie had slipped through his lips.

"Sergeant Fuery?" Alphonse echoed in puzzlement.

"Yeah. He's—fixing up some communication devices for Mustang," Ed made up on the spot, recalling how much time the young man spent working on radios and other curious inventions. "So, er, he asked me to pick up some things for him..." He avoided the intense stare from his younger brother. _Why would you need tongs to fix a radio? _his eyes seem to convey.

"I'm going to bed," Winry said suddenly, rousing Ed from his guilty thoughts. He turned quickly, opening his mouth only to close it again, knowing it wouldn't do him any good if he asked her to stay a moment more.

"Good night you two," she smiled, fatigue dwindling its usually energizing effects. Alphonse bid goodnight politely, elbowing Ed to do the same.

"Oh, yeah, night."

The instant her door shut, Al's scolding began. "Brother! I told you you couldn't come back in until you and Winry settled your differences!"

"All I heard was that you wouldn't let me back in if I didn't have Winry with me," Ed responded, dropping into an armchair heavily.

Alphonse was silent for a moment. "Those are for her, aren't they, brother?"

Ed closed his eyes. "I already told you, they're for Fuery." He heard bags crumpling and he snapped his eyes open. "Hey! What're you—"

"I didn't know Sergeant Fuery knew how to use an ironing hammer," Alphonse squinted his eyes at his brothers flush. "Or that he needed an anvil." He held out the pick-up receipt in his broad iron hands. If he could smirk, Ed was sure it would be smug and probably irritate him to kingdom come.

"Alright, what the heck do you want to know?" Ed hissed, keen on keeping his voice low no matter how much he wanted to yell. He was pretty sure Winry was not asleep; not yet, at least.

"Why did you lie to Winry." Al crossed his arms in a motherly fashion.

Ed groaned. "Next question."

"Brother!"

"Fine!" He snapped. "Because.. because... This is all that bastard Colonels fault, you know!" Ed accused feebly, dropping his chin into his flesh hand as his brother took an unneeded breath and shook his head. "He told me that I had to make it up to her since no amount of time would cool her off so that's where me being broke at the moment comes in."

"Broke?!" Alphonse yelped.

"Not so much anymore," he answered dismissively, remembering the cash transaction. "But now I don't know what the hell I'm suppose to do with all this junk!" He gestured to the bags and bags of tools. "I don't even know what half the stuff in those bags does!"

"... Yet you _still_ bought them?"

"I have a good memory, Al, and I distinctly recall that Winry uses this crap all the time back in Resembool," he mumbled back, ignoring the giggle from his little brother.

"I know it's far-fetched but you can try to give it to her?" Al offered hopefully.

"No," he deadpanned.

"But, why not? It's not for Sergeant Fuery and you just told me it was for her!" Alphonse frowned. "Why not do what you had intended to in the first place and give it to her?"

Edward opened his mouth, pink dusting along his cheeks, when a knock sounded and Al stood up from his kneeling position to answer the door.

Nothing had Ed prepared for what happened next.

"Sergeant Fuery!?"

"Hahh?" Ed let his mouth fall open when the timid Sergeant walked inside, the slight smile on his face only highlighting the uncertainty in his black eyes. He pushed his glasses up and saluted Ed.

"Colonel Mustang asked me to pick up something that belonged to me," Fuery smiled halfheartedly. "Whatever that may be."

"You... you mean the tools?" Ed sputtered, the bags beside him flashing like a neon sign. Fuery's eyes lit with recognition and he nodded, looking even more sheepish than before.

"Yes... that." He marched forward and lugged the two bags up, puffing his cheeks out in exertion. Though his arms were skinny and wiry, Edward could clearly tell the man could hold his own as he carried the heavy bags to the threshold of the front door without so much as a groan.

"Thanks!" Fuery chirped, trotting out of the apartment and closing the door behind him. Alphonse stood in the middle of the room, looking lost, while Ed stared at the door with incredulous eyes, mouth still agape with shock.

"Wait a second," he scowled, realization striking him like a brick. He bolted to the door and threw it open, screaming: "HEY! I PAID GOOD MONEY FOR—MMPH!?" Ed shoved Alphonse's hand away from his mouth.

"Brother! Shh! Winry is sleeping!" Al glanced to her door, which was ways down the hall.

Ed grumbled but relented, eying the door only once before retreating back to the springy armchair. He ran a hand down his face. "Why would Mustang call Fuery to pick up the tools I specifically bought for _Winry_?" he growled, shooting Al a glare when the boy giggled again. Why did he find this situation so amusing?! "Unless... Roy, you goddamn romanticist son of a bitch!" He swore explicitly, ignoring Alphonse's gasping admonish for his language.

"What did Colonel Mustang do _this_ time?"

"He's going to wrap the things!" Ed groaned. "With frilly, possibly pink, paper and bows! Holy cow, that will ruin my reputation!" His face paled several shades.

"I didn't know your reputation meant more to you than Winry..." Al huffed, miffed on her behalf.

"Shuddup, Al!" Ed snapped, slamming his automail fist into the boys chest. Alphonse only sighed. "You don't know how hard I worked on my rep! It's bad enough people always mistake _you_ for the Full Metal Alchemist..." He scowled heavily as he recalled all those times people had turned to him in shocked awe, and nearly blew a blood vessel when he remembered what most said once they regained their vocals.

"I'm not short, damn it, not short at all," he muttered to himself, balling his fists. "Just vertically challenged..."

"Um, brother, may I ask what are you going to do now?" Al asked, sounding a bit sheepish. "Because Winry got a phone call a couple of hours ago from mister Garfiel. I think she's leaving tomorrow..."

"What?!" Ed groaned and ran a hand through his hair. "Tomorrow?! Why so soon? She usually begs for us to let her stay, what's the difference this time?"

"She only came to check up on your automail," Al reminded, earning a look of annoyance from Ed. "I think she was going to stay for a few more days but after what you said..." he trailed off, leaving the elder alchemist to momentarily drown in his own self-disgust.

Ed parted his lips to speak but froze when he felt a heavy weight shift within his coats pocket. He gripped the top of his coat, feeling the shape of the old wrench he had bought from the old man fill his hand. A rakish smile erased the previous despair and he hopped to his feet, feeling his automail leg strain against his rash movements.

"All hope isn't lost yet, Al." He continued to grip the wrench hidden beneath the coat. He could feel her other wrench – the one he had bought her all those years ago – bounce in his trouser pocket. "I'm going to bed. Night, Al!" He started for the hall and nearly faltered when he reached her door, frowning when he heard a sharp intake of breath. He brushed it off as the wind and hurried inside his room, slamming the door behind him while Alphonse tilted his head curiously.

* * *

The next day, at the peak of dawn, found Ed comparing both wrenches on the floor by his bed. He perused them as he contemplated his future moves. The wrench he had bought Winry all those years ago had obviously seen better days – it was chipped and slightly rusty; strong but worn out. The one he had bought was in no better condition; probably worse considering Winry actually took care of her things.

Her wrench was long and wide, though he noticed that the handle had been snipped off clean, something which struck him as odd. It looked as if someone had hacked right through it with a saw. The one he had bought from the old man was much, much smaller – probably less than half the size of hers – but built thickly and in one piece.

His first thought was to simply combine the two to form one. But that would make the wrench too big to work with so he discarded the thought. His next idea was better: simply use alchemy to fix her old wrench back to it's old glamor and repeat the process with the new one he had bought. But he brushed the thought away once more; he wanted to do something a bit more extreme.

So his third and final thought ran along the lines of both his previous ideas. He would fix her old wrench, cut the new one he had bought in half, with alchemy. Then he would _combine _the smaller portion to Winry's original wrench, using the extra metal to strengthen the iron and fix the chopped end of the tool. He would erase the scratches and rust and possibly make it better than before.

Of course, equivalent exchange made everything more difficult. The wrench would still be a bit too thick to manage and could possibly interfere with her work in the long run...

He decided it wouldn't really matter unless Winry was extremely exact, which he knew, from being _raised _with her, that she wasn't.

He clapped his hands together and pressed them against the smaller wrench, separating it into two equal pieces. He grabbed Winry's wrench and clapped his hands once more, pressing the bottom portion of the smaller wrench into his palm and his other hand into the bigger wrench. He carefully molded the metals together, relishing the sensation of deconstruction and reconstruction; the absolute power of manipulation as he broke down molecules to their most basic atoms and rebuilt them to shape the tool into sharper perfection.

Once he was done, he smiled and lifted the wrench for observation. He had fixed the tail of the taller wrench and thickened it enough to add resiliency. The wrench looked visibly better, most of it's scratches and rust covered by the extra layer of iron he had added. His eyes strayed to the top of the wrench, where there was the most damage from being used time and time again to screw in bolts and induce cranium damage once in a while.

Blue sparks illuminated the room for another half hour before a knock interrupted his work. He almost shoved the wrench down his shirt, fearing it was Winry. However, luck was on his side and Al's voice rang out perkily.

"Brother! Wake up, it's time for breakfast! Winry cooked us some bacon and eggs and even pancakes! She added those tasty blue berries you like so much!" He coaxed.

He tried to make his voice sound sleep-clouded. "Gimmie' five minutes!"

He heard Al's heavy footsteps slowly dim and he clapped his hands once last time, shaping groves into the handle of the wrench so it was easier to hold. He gripped it tightly in his hand, smiling when the sun hit the metal and it shone brightly.

Of course, his smile soon dropped altogether as he allowed himself a few seconds of self-pity.

He was basically _encouraging _her to smack him in the head! Now she had a better grip on the device to blame for all the stitches and knots his skull had suffered through over the years. He sighed and tucked the wrench in his pocket, frowning when he could clearly see its outline. He opted to storing it underneath his pants waistband instead.

His hand briefly touched his loose hair as he stood up and stretched.

He needed a new hairband as he quickly braided it but left it alone.

When he walked into the kitchen, Winry had indeed created a meal to remember. He nearly drooled when he caught the tantalizing smell of freshly brewed coffee and sausage links.

"Good morning big brother!"

"Good morning, Ed," Winry smiled slightly, shaking her head when he only mumbled back a reply and attacked the cup of coffee with vigor. He drained the cup in one, long, gulp. He needed the caffeine – he hadn't slept well, hardly at all, last night.

"That's the stuff," he sighed, raising a brow at Alphonse's laughter.

"Rough night?" Al asked knowingly.

"You could say that," he replied, deciding to pour himself another cup instead of digging into the meal presented to him. Winry was already half-way done with her own dish. It took him no time at all, however, to catch up to her even though he had eaten twice as much as she had.

Once they were both full and satisfied, Winry stood and collected the dishes, still abnormally quiet. Alphonse glanced at Ed, who was focusing on the bare wood of the dining table. He rose his eyes, both brothers exchanging silent messages.

Al's reply was less than satisfying, though.

"Do it now," he whispered, gesturing to the kitchen which was alive with the homey clatter of dishes and glasses.

Ed chewed on his lip, nervousness clawing his insides. He had spent nearly two hours shaping and perfecting her wrench and spent the entire night planning on how to give it to her. And he _knew _he had to give it back to her soon.

His hands fiddled with the metal buckle of his jacket.

He had do it sometime.

He might as well get it over with now.

Determined, stomach churning with anxiety, Ed stood and picked up his empty mug. He gave Al one last glance, who shot him two cheery thumbs up. When he turned back, he felt even more anxious than before.

His hands felt clammy and cold and his insides were a tangled mess. He was just going to give her her wrench back! But he knew that thought held no basis. He most likely altered their friendship with his tactless words, if her indifference and detached friendliness meant anything. He had gone out looking for her, worried out of his wits for her safety, only to end up in Roy's less-than-capable hands and spend nearly five months of salary on pure mechanical nonsense.

He paused a few steps behind her, watching as she slowly washed the dishes.

If he had altered their friendship before then this was overkill.

The wrench in his waistband seemed to double in weight and he had half a mind to grab it, place it by her, and run out of the kitchen before his mouth said anything his brain did not agree on. Then he thought that maybe he _should _have gift-wrapped it?

_Well, too late now._ He thought, swallowing.

"Is there something you need, Ed?"

Her quiet voice shocked him out of his thoughts. He lifted his eyes to her own wary ones and felt a sharp stab of concern at the puffy pink of them. She looked like she did not get a very good nights sleep either and _she_ had woken up early to cook a huge breakfast, which only ratcheted his guilt and drive to make things right again.

"Mug," he cleared his throat. "Here's the mug." He cautiously stepped forward and placed the mug under the running water, flinching when his arm brushed her own. He moved back quickly and she resumed washing.

"Anything else?" She sounded mildly curious to why he was just standing there.

Ed resisted a sigh but indulged in scratching his cheek self-consciously. His automail hand reached behind him. "You dropped this yesterday," he said, once she had finished and dried her hands on a rag. He handed the wrench to her, swallowing nervously when she only stared at it.

Then her eyes lit up and all that anxiety slowly leaked away.

"T-That isn't my wrench," she stammered, though she took it from his grasp; holding it as if it were some antique, prized, artifact.

"Yes it is. Its the exact same one I gave you when we were eight, remember?" he smiled, growing comfortable with the situation despite the gnawing in his stomach that warned him not to get more arrogant. He couldn't screw this up now.

_Good. I was right, _Ed thought, as Winry flipped the wrench over and traced a finger up the replenished spine. _I don't need to gift-wrap Winry anything. _He allowed a weary smile. _I doubt she'd even appreciate it anyways. It'd end up ripped up on the floor like any other thing._

"What.... what did you do to it?" She whispered, lifting her bright azure eyes. It eased several knots of tension when he saw her beaming face. Good. She liked it. Phase one complete.

"I fixed it with alchemy," he revealed proudly, reaching into his front pant pocket to pull out the other half of the wrench he had used to fix up her old one. "I bought this in downtown yesterday when I saw it. I remember you telling me about it and how this brand was better than most wrenches on the market. I combined them and added an extra layer of iron to your original wrench, which is why it looks better than before. Its also stronger and I fixed the handle so it's more manageable. I extended the bottom and sculpted it as it was before... before whatever happened to it happened....are you okay?" His voice had declined to a whisper and he paled, panic welling inside him.

She looked ready to cry again.

"Wait! Wait! Don't cry!" He rushed, stepping forward and holding out his hands in peace. "I'm sorry for messing with your wrench! I should've asked you first but I figured you wouldn't mind! Winry?" His voice was nearly pleading. He grabbed both sides of her shoulders as she tried to suppress tears. "Winry, whats wrong? What did I screw up now? It really is the wrench, isn't it?" His tone was laden in guilt. "I'm sorry! I shouldn't have—"

"It's not the wrench, Ed," she whispered, pressing the tool close to her chest. "This is probably the sweetest thing anyone has ever done for me."

His cheeks burned red automatically at her words and he scrambled back, ducking his head instinctively to hide the rising blush. "S-So..." Here came the loaded the question; the one that decided his fate. "...will you forgive me?"

He lifted his eyes to find her smiling. But it was a different smile, one that made his stomach give a little lurch and his heart pick up pace. It was soft and fond and, for lack of better word, _affectionate. _Her azure eyes were dancing like the fireflies he used to capture in Resembool for her; they glowed with smothering affection.

Though this affection seemed highly different than any other he had been submitted to. This affection made him even more recluse than before, tugged at something under his breastbone and urged him to return the affection with something equal to it. But he didn't, instead he just swallowed and flashed his eyes to the right, not sure why he liked this smile better than any of the others.

"Ed, if you had any common sense you would have known that I forgave you a long time ago," she smiled, laughing at his baffled face. "You know I can't stay mad at you longer than seventy two hours! If you were the so-called 'genius' everyone talks about you'd have figured it out by now, idiot!"

Ed frowned.

This... felt like a trick.

But she was happy now! He was forgiven and he could now move on with his life.

Right?

"Well, what if I wanted to make it up to you this time?" This was why he wanted to ditch the wrench and run away. His mouth was always acting on it's own, wild and reckless, ignoring his brain when it screamed in alarm. He wasn't suppose to say that! He was suppose something along the lines of 'oh' or 'really?' or 'whatever!' or just change the subject, for Truth's sake!

She stared for a moment. "Ed... you're—sort of creeping me out with all this..." _kindness, _Winry added mentally, but Ed caught on quickly.

"What, me showing some sign that I actually _care_ for you is automatically marked off as creepy?!" He growled, defensively crossing his arms across his chest. The blush across his cheeks burned deeper. "That's the last time I ever do something nice for you!"

"No! I didn't mean it like that!" Winry amended, tightening her hold on the wrench. "You just... actually _tried_ making it up to me. Or apologizing for your actions. Actually," she narrowed her eyes, "you never apologized for what you said before! You just gave me my old wrench back!" She was allowing him to easy way out again. Winry felt that Riza knew her better than herself.

"Ahem, the apology was your new and improved and possibly better than any other tool out in the market, wrench," Ed said smugly, allowing a smirk to dash his features. He sobered up right after, resolutely holding her gaze. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that – it was wrong of me. You aren't just good for making automail, you're much more than that. You make a killer apple pie and you're possibly the strongest girl I've ever known." He paused, thinking about that. "Aside from Master. She doesn't count because she's a demon in human skin. Oh, and Hawkeye."

The blush on Winry's face made her look... cuter. Ed frowned at this thought. Since when had she become cute?

"W...why doesn't she count?"

"Who? Hawkeye? Because she's Colonel bastard's best friend," he answered breezily. "Anyone with half a brain would know that Roy is one annoying son of a—"

"Ed!" Winry warned.

"What?" he mumbled, ignoring the look of irritation fleeting her face.

"Well, I like Colonel Mustang. He isn't so bad," she said, and laughed when Ed cast her a scandalized look of horror.

"You better be joking," he threatened, the half smile on his face rendering the threat harmless as she only laughed harder. "Or I'll take back that wrench of yours."

"You can't! It was mine in the first place!"

"But I bought it for you, so technically I am it's original owner. Plus, now it has half of the other wrench I bought so it's wholly mine."

"You _gave _it to me!"

"It's _still _mine."

Winry puffed her cheeks and gripped her wrench in mock-threat. Ed, however, instinctively flinched back, murmuring: "Damn it! Why'd I make it strong enough to withstand a ton of pressure?!" He shut his eyes and waited for the blow that would surely rattle his brain.

However, all he was met with was a sudden gust of fresh lilac and machine oil. He opened his eyes and glanced down at Winry, who embraced him tightly and buried her face in his chest.

The blush in his cheeks would be made permanent if this kept up.

He stiffly lowered his arms to the side as she squeezed him.

They twitched once, twice, three times, before raising to rest on the small of her back tentatively. She pressed closer to him, eliciting a surprised squeak from the boy. He tried to focus on the task at hand: trying to hug her back, because something deep inside of him told him it was the right thing to do and his instincts never failed him before. But it was hard when he could hear his brothers poorly concealed giggles coming from the living room...

But soon, his muscles relaxed and he grew comfortable with the rare physical contact. It was then, when he rested his cheek above the rim of her ear, that it struck him.

He was taller than Winry.

It was slight, perhaps only _one _inch, but he was indeed taller than her.

Until she fully stood.

His hope crashed and burned when she stepped even closer to him. They were both the same height – he possibly being half an inch _smaller_ – but this revelation was enough to appease the alchemist, who dropped his forehead on her shoulder and inhaled. He could feel her warmth consume him, comfort him, and the sheer softness of her body was nice as it pressed up against him.

Who knew hugging felt so... good?

Why hadn't he tried this before? She'd basically thrown herself ar him and he never tried! Why had he waited so long when all he had to do was wrap his arms around her midsection to experience this burst of euphoria? To prove his point, he tightened his hold around her waist. Just the familiar way their bodies molded to one another – the memories from their childhood attached to this specific hold – was enough to urge him to continue; to close his eyes and lean into the embrace.

But at the same time, it was not the same. The embrace signified change. It was not the innocent exchange they shared when they were children. This was different, felt different, and stringed along a myriad of emotions he had yet to identify. The sweet, unique, scent of hers was never enough for him to inhale and the soft skin which brushed against his cheek felt wonderful.

This was different.

He opened his eyes, staring at the pale white of her shirt with passive realization.

Their relationship, the friendship he worked so hard to maintain, was not the same anymore. It was different. It had altered somewhere between the beginning of his journey to now. He did not hold the same feelings he did when they were younger; that uncomplicated platonic vibe. He felt something else now, holding her, breathing her, and somehow he knew that he had gotten himself into trouble the moment he had dared to wrap his arms around her.

Because now that he had felt her, he would need her.

More than before.

In a different way than before.

It was stupid of him to ever think of her as 'just his mechanic' because she simply _wasn't. _

She never was.

She was the girl his mother had introduced him to years ago, before he could even speak; the grease monkey from his past; the obsessed-with-anything-metal girl he'd taunted and mocked for half his childhood. And, for some time, she had been the sister he never had. And now, she was something else altogether. Something he didn't want to mull over as it would bring along dangerous thoughts.

Like if she meant more to him than before, she'd be in even more danger.

If she meant more to him than before, she would be inexplicably dragged into this mess he got himself into – the recently discovered Homunculi, the Philosopher's Stone, the dangerous enemies he had acquired along the way.

If she meant more to him than before, he would be vulnerable. More than previously thought, because now he knew he couldn't bare it if she was hurt because of him.

Edward leaned his head up from her shoulder and dropped one arm from around her waist, raising it to clasp around her upper arm. Winry slowly lifted her head, boring her crystal blue eyes into his own burnished gold ones. They stayed like this for a long while; gazing into each others eyes before Ed flicked them away to the side, focusing on the pale white of the wall.

This had gone on for long enough.

He had to stop before he did something stupid again.

"Uh, here!" Winry said suddenly, handing him a red hair tie she had took off from her wrist. "I don't have black ones.. I hope you don't mind."

"It's fine, thanks," he murmured, quickly tying his hair and ignoring the fact that he could feel her breath brush against his lips. He noticed how red her cheeks had become and, for a moment, thought that perhaps she had gotten sick, before logic caught up with his floaty emotions and screamed that she was actually _blushing._

"The train to Rush Valley will be leaving soon," he cleared his throat, thinking that if she was blushing then perhaps he had done a _good _thing? "We should probably get going..."

She blinked and tilted her head, an action which caused unwanted thoughts regarding her recently-discovered adorableness to appear. "What train? I'm not set to leave for another two weeks." Her eyes became uncertain. "Unless you want me to..."

Ed stared long and hard at her, trying to detect any deceit, but all he saw was plain confusion. He slowly dropped the severed wrench in his hand and pinched the bridge of his nose. His eyes flew open to reveal dark and malicious golden orbs and he snapped his head to the kitchen arch, grinning manically when Alphonse gasped and ducked away.

"I'm sorry!!" came Al's fading yell as he ran away.

"You get back here, you _liar_!" Ed roared, gently pushing Winry away as he heard the front door slam. He bolted after his brother. "ALPHONSE! WHEN I CATCH YOU I'M GOING TO TRANSMUTE YOUR LOIN CLOTH INTO A SKIRT!!"

Winry stayed behind in the kitchen, a light blush adorning her cheeks, and crouched down to pick up the neatly sliced wrench. She fingered the old metal and brushed her hands over the familiar brand mark.

She slipped it into her back pocket, surveying the wrench Edward had custom made for faults. She found none except for the width, which she was sure she could sand down a bit when she got home. She wrapped her hand firmly around the handle, smiling when it was easier to grip than before.

"Riza was right," she mused, listening to Ed and Al's distant yells as she wondered into the small living room and curled up on the springy armchair, lifting her legs to drape over the hand rest and snuggling into the material. "Keep your head down and voice low and they fall for it before you know it," she giggled devilishly, touching the eyes she had rubbed for five minutes straight to acquire their pink, lightly swollen, look.

She placed the wrench across her stomach and closed her eyes, a smile dancing on her lips as she heard Ed and Al's raucous behavior just outside the four walls that contained her...

* * *

"Uh, Sir?" Sergeant Fuery asked nervously that very same morning, pushing up his spectacles as Colonel Roy Mustang quickly jotted down some notes on a spare sheet of paper. "I believe that paper is apart of a report, sir."

Roy glanced at the words on the page and pushed the paper aside, grabbing a blank one from the pile beside his large stack of paperwork and restating his previous words. The instant he did, he tore the paper in half and gave the bottom portion to Fuery, who scrambled to take it in his hands while holding at least fifty pounds of iron merchandise. He had kept the bags in his office for the time being, as instructed, and now Mustang had called for him to tell him part two of this master plan he had no idea about until now.

And even then, he _still _didn't know why it included a bunch of tools.

"I want those bags sent to Resembool, the Rockbell household," Roy commanded, taking out a small receipt and handing it to him right after. Fuery eventually gave up trying to juggle the bags and the address Roy had given him and reached out to grab the other piece of paper once he settled the bags by his feet.

"So what do I do with this, sir?"

"Change the order so they may send the anvil to the Rockbell Household," Roy said, sitting back in his chair. "They may charge you. Whatever the charge, I'll just deduct it from Full Metal's salary add it to your own paycheck."

"Are you sure that's fair, sir? Shouldn't you consult this with him first?" Fuery asked, only to take back his words when he caught sight of the Colonels thirsty eyes for vengeance.

"What was that, Sergeant? Did you say something, I believe I did not hear you," he flashed dark eyes to Fuery, who trembled in place and hastily took back his words.

"N-Nothing, sir!" He saluted, dragging the tearing bags of merchandise behind him as he left. "I'll be sure to change the order and deliver these bags to the Central train station, s-sir!"

Roy smirked. "That's what I thought you said." _You better have made an improvement in your relationship with Winry, Ed. _Roy eyed his paperwork. He better have. Then he could blackmail him into doing his work for the next few months.... years... _decades_...

_I did give you the love of your life, _Roy chuckled evilly, bordering on a cackle. _That is something no one can pay back! _So, life-time paperwork for the alchemist it was! He let a triumphant smile slid onto his face as he sank in his chair and crossed his arms behind his head.

Yes, nothing felt better than having a pipsqueak subordinate do all your paperwork...

Suddenly, he heard a click.

A shuffle of clothes.

A small noise of irritation.

Mustang snapped his eyes open and ducked, the loud bangs of gun shots penetrating the wall making his ears ring. He shakily peered over the edge of his desk, eyes wide as Riza Hawkeye stood before him, stoic and perfectly composed as always, though the annoyed sparkle in her uniquely colored irises gave her away instantly.

"Sir, I do believe you have some work do." She ground her teeth in an attempt to be polite. "I would get working on it if I were you – some of it is very late."

Roy swallowed and sat back in his chair, smiling shakily. "Yes. Of course. I'll get right on it!" To prove his point, he picked up a stack of work and quickly began to read through it, flickering his eyes up to her repeatedly as she stared long and hard.

Satisfied that her superior was doing at least some work, she settled back to her desk across the room. Once she heard the distinct scratch of pen on paper, she took out her own pen and read over her own set of work.

A crumple interrupted her thoughts. She frowned and lifted her hand, staring at the medium sized baggy underneath. She glanced at Roy, who only continued to scrawl his signature where insisted, and tentatively prodded the bag. She unfurled it and sucked in a sharp gasp when she reached in and took out a brand new gun. It came equipped with its own cartridges and the metal felt light and smooth under her palm. It was designed to fit in small place and it was the new E-900 model she had been eying for the past few weeks, as the previous model she owned was starting to lock on her.

Her eyes immediately flashed to the Colonel, who was, by now, resting his chin on his palm and smiling rather guiltily.

Riza lowered her gaze back to the gun, allowing a rare smile to light her face. She carefully placed the gun beside her.

"Sir, bribing is strictly against policy rules." She watched Roy's face fall and mumble something she did not catch. "However," she watched him perk up, "I suppose a small break now and then would be okay."

Roy grinned and stood up, pausing when Riza held up her palm. She quirked a brow. "Finish it first then you can go on break."

Mustang groaned and plopped back down, snatching his pen and childishly glaring at her. Without further ado, he quickly signed his name and read up some more before repeating the process.

Riza let her smile soften as she glanced at the polished weapon, the engraved R.H. on the side that made it unique and special in its own way.

Roy Mustang sure knew how to charm a woman, even if the pink bow on the brown baggy was a little too much.

* * *

"Phew!" Winry sighed, dropping her toolbox on the ground beside her and resting her elbow on the top. She smiled as she looked up to her house. The chimneys were puffing out black smoke, indicating that her grandmother was most likely melting some metal.

The rest of the two weeks in Central had passed without incident.

Edward had gone about like the intimate embrace had never happened, annoying Winry for a few days before she sighed and accepted the fact that it was Ed-like behavior to just ignore such moments.

He had, however, before leaving, actually wrapped his arms around her when she hugged him goodbye like she always did. It was different and the amount of pressure he put into the hug her left her literally breathless no matter how short it actually was. It was almost like he was trying to fit several missed hugs into one. He had let go too fast for her tastes, grumbling a goodbye and sending a sharp punch to his giddy brother.

She boarded the train feeling woozy and lightheaded and, she winced when she thought about this now, most likely sporting some dopey smile.

She tripped twice over some bags when she entered the train.

She was just grateful Ed and Al weren't there to see the ungraceful falls.

"Granny! I'm back! And guess what? For once, Ed's automail wasn't totally busted up," Winry recounted as she walked into the living room and threw the toolkit on the couch. She raked a hand through her hair as she walked into the basement, where she knew her granny would be. "And Alphonse really liked the polishing oil you sent him! It has his armor all shiny and new! Granny?"

"In here, Winry!" she heard her granny call, and she smiled as she stepped into the workshop located in the basement.

The sight she was met with had her gaping.

"Wh-what's all this!?" She stuttered, looking at the clutter of new tools, still with their scratched out price-tags on them, get critically analyzed by her grandmother.

"Came in a couple of days ago from Central," Pinako replied, affirming another tool to the steadily growing pile beside her. "It's from Ed. Did you ask him to buy all of this stuff for you? A brand new anvil just came in a few hours ago."

"N-No! I never asked him to buy any of this!" Winry said, walking forward to snatch a box of screws from the pile. "I didn't even know he—oh." A smile slid onto her once-shocked face as she recalled the conversation Ed and Al had when she announced she was going to bed. She had been listening intently to every word they said, even though some of them were too muffled to hear, but she had caught on enough to know that those bags _were_ actually for her. Even though she hadn't known the reason she did catch the "..._Roy, that goddamn romanticist son of a bitch!_" that made her laugh.

Ed sure was creative with his words.

And now she understood why he had said that, as she eyed the pink bow getting torn off another box of nuts by her granny.

"Hmm, well, tell the pipsqueak he's got horrible taste in bows," Pinako nodded her head to the pile of pink and frilly bows and rolls of wrapping paper that lay tore up and overflowing inside the trash bin. "Short in stature," she heard her granny murmur, "and he comes short in style as well."

Winry only laughed, grabbing some bows and flipping them around in her hand. "I think I know what happened." She laughed even harder at the thought of them coming over and granny putting him down for his pitiful attempts at wrapping. "Colonel Mustang sure is dramatic."

"Hmm? What does that dog have anything to do with this?" Pinako asked, raising a brow as her only granddaughter struggled to keep her laughter at bay.

"Oh, nothing, grandma," she giggled, spying an ironing hammer and rushing over to it to pick it up and feel its weight. "Hey, this is the hammer I've been wanting for a while now!... What's this?" She peeled off the blue-red bow and threw it with the rest on the stack. She noticed many other things also had bows and wrapping paper around them. "Are all of these actually wrapped, granny?"

"Yep," she grunted. "Been tearing these damn things off for the past week now."

Winry sighed. _Poor Fuery. _She had heard Sargent Fuery barge in and take the tools back to his apartment, as Ed's roar could've woken the dead.

"Well, one things for sure," Winry said, warily, eying all the bows that still had to be ripped off. "Bow ties and wrapping paper definitely _don't _work well on metal."

"You got that right," Pinako snorted. "Pipsqueaks gonna' get an ear-full when he gets back!"

Winry just smiled, the wrench he had transmuted safely in her back pocket.

At least he hadn't wrapped _that_ one.


End file.
